Some things can wait for a later date
by nepetation
Summary: There's something about the weather that they both hate. (Stucky, oneshot)


Mid-November rain pelted the window and streamlined down the glass panes. Through the sheet of water, everything outside was a wavering blur. The occasional flash of lightening lit up smudges of colours and shapes blending into one another. Hours ago the sky had been bright and free of rainfall, but without warning it seemed to rip open and let all of heaven take a piss on the town of Brooklyn. It wasn't often that the streets were empty, but this was one of those times. They weren't even streets anymore- the city was starting to look like Venice! Bucky was well past fed up with the weather because frankly, it sucked.

He cast a glance Steve's way, who sat on the couch with the word's scratchiest afghan draped across his shoulders. He was hunched over a sketchbook in lap, the charcoal in his had making a faint scratching noise. Even with the radiator rattling in the corner, the boy still let out the occasional shudder. It was busted for sure- Bucky made a note to see about getting it fixed whenever he could get the money.

There were a lot of things that needed to be fixed at Steve's house, like the leaky faucet and flickering light outside. Of course, Steve always refused Bucky's offer to get them repaired. 'I'm not some charity case, Buck,' He would say, the hurt in his voice evident and piercing to Bucky's heart. He never meant it like that; he only wanted to be of some help for the other.

The dark-haired boy groaned and turned his attention back to the window. He and Steve had made plans to catch a movie downtown, but no sane person would go out in such a storm as what was outside. Unfortunately for Bucky, Steve was a perfectly sane person.

"When d'ya think this rain'll let up?" Bucky tapped a calloused finger against the window.

He heard Steve click his tongue in response, "Dunno," the smaller boy looked up from his sketch and set his charcoal down. It left his fingers and hand black where they made contact with his skin. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, smudging it on his face as well, "Could last all night. Think you should stay the night then?"

He probably would have stayed over anyway, as he often did. Besides, was already- Bucky pushed his sleeve back to check the watch strapped to his wrist- half past nine at night. Long after he'd promised his mom to be home. He knew she wouldn't mind; she was used to him spending nights at his best friend's apartment. At times, he felt that they were more than that even.

"Yeah, I'll stay over," Bucky's face split into a grin, "You've got something on your face, by the way," he motioned to the area around his mouth with a tap of his finger.

The other boy blinked and looked at his charcoal coloured fingers before giving his chin a vigorous rub. He only smeared it farther up his cheek, helping only to make Bucky give out a boisterous laugh.

He stood from his seat by the window and crossed over to the couch, "Lemme get that for ya."

Steve eyes him cautiously, a look of disgust spreading ofur his smudged face when Bucky popped a finger into his mouth, "Woah, woah! No way you're wiping my face with your spit!" He backed away from the other, throwing a ratty pillow after him. There wasn't much room on the couch to give much distance between himself and and the approaching boy.

"Awh, c'mon, punk!" Bucky smirked and crawled across the couch, "I gotta get you cleaned up!"

The larger boy launched himself and the wrestled in a flurry of limbs, eventually toppling over the arm of the couch. Both boys hollered when a flash of lightening lit up the sky. Everything outside went dark again, but this time Steve's apartment did as well.

Steve groaned and in that instant their little dispute was over. "Shit," he muttered, turning to make a grab fur his blanket again, which had slid off of him during his mock-tussle with Bucky. Without electricity, things would be getting a lot colder. As one who spent a lot of his time getting sick, Steve really didn't like the cold.

They moved to the couch then, neither one saying anything. Bucky subtlety wiped his hand on his pant leg. Looked like they'd be turning in early then. A draft came in through the window, sending a shiver down his spine. He'd been cold earlier but that was something he could bear with. Now that the radiator wasn't producing any heat ( not that it was much help before), he seemed to finally realise just how cold it was in Steve's house. He'd have to bump that closer to the top of the list things to fix.

"Cold?" Steve already knew the answer; he wasn't even sure why he asked.

"Mm," a hum was Bucky's response. He nodded and added, "A bit."

The scratchy afghan found its way over his head then, making him feel like a bright coloured ghost with itching powder in his sheet. "Y'know we can share this," Yeah, Steve wasn't a fan of being cold, but he also wasn't a fan of watching his closest friend sit peppered in goosebumps, and Bucky knew that. Leave it to Steve to sacrifice his measly health to help someone else, putting no thought to his own good meanwhile.

The blond furrowed his brow and shrugged. It wasn't a very large blanket, so spreading it over both their shoulders wouldn't possibly work. But there was Bucky, calling him to move closer with a wave of his hand. Steve complied and soon they were sitting knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder. There was no way it would cover them both, even sitting this close.

He was about to voice his confusion when the other boy suddenly grabbed his legs and pulled them onto the couch, forcing him onto his back.

"You couldn't have just asked me to lie down?" His mouth pulled into a frown. Clearly, he was far from happy.

Oh god, did Bucky feel like a jerk now. Steve never took nicely to having things done for him, especially not things he could easily do himself. Of course, that was one Steve's flaws- he couldn't accept help when he needed it. Meanwhile Bucky didn't much like not having control over something. He sometimes forgot how much his friend hated that.

"I don't have time for you to move at you're... old lady pace," Way to think fast, Buck. He moved to lie next to the other, awash with relief when the edge if Steve's scowl twitched into a smile.

"You're a jerk, y'know that?"

Bucky chuckled and turned on his side to face his friend, "Yeah, and you still have that shit on your face. Funny looking beard you're growing in, punk."

The other boy groaned and went at his face again. It wasn't smudging this time, but it wasn't coming off either. In fact, Steve wasn't even wiping the right areas of his face.

"No. No, here. No- Steve, how are not getting this- nope, nope," Bucky sighed deeply and brushed his dark fringe away from his forehead, "I'll get it, okay?"

This time there was no protest when he brought his palm up to wipe the charcoal from Steve's face. Because of the lack of light, he had to lean in close to see whether he was making any progress, or just smudging it further. From this distance Bucky could smell the soap on the smaller boy's skin; he could feel Steve's breath, hot against his rough fingers and contrasting the cool air. The touch of his hand on the other's face gradually grew softer and soon he found himself tracing circles over his lower lip.

Bucky had always thought highly of his friend. Somehow this urge to close the gap between them felt natural to him- like maybe it was something he'd been wanting to do for a while.

Steve must have realised what Bucky was thinking and sucked his head quickly. His forehead and Bucky's chin made loud contact, inspiring pain in them both, "We should get to sleep," he mumbled, keeping his eyes trained on the other boys significantly broader chest. He heard an audible gulp from the other that almost made him want to cringe.

"Y-yeah... Uh, should I...?" Bucky jerked his head toward the door. He was asking if he should leave.

Steve didn't not like Bucky, not even after he'd almost been kissed by him. In fact, part if him had wanted to be kissed- for a long time actually. But at that moment, when it was really about to happen, panic rose in his throat like bile. He wasn't very experienced, so what if he wasn't any good? Anyway, even if he had let Bucky go through with it, what would that make them? He didn't even want to think of what would happen if one day they decided they didn't like each other like that anymore. Losing Bucky would crush him.

Bucky didn't know all this of course. As far as he was concerned, he'd just been flat out rejected. He felt like his stomach had swapped places with his heart then. It wasn't a good feeling.

"No!" Bucky jumped at the blond's outburst, "Erm- I'm still cold so uh..." Steve's voice trailed off and he wriggled close against his friend, bringing their bodies flush against each other.

The latter just smiled fondly at the him and threw an arm over his shoulder, holding him close to himself. Steve did the same and let their legs intertwine with one another.

Bucky may not have gotten his kiss, but hey- this was still pretty good in the end. They lay there for a long time in silence, which was broken only by loud claps of thunder that following flashes of lightening. Maybe the radiator wasn't in urgent need of being fixed. In fact, did it really even needed to be fixed?

'No,' he decided, with Steve's head tucked comfortably under his chin, 'I don't think it does.'


End file.
